


For You: Could've Been

by inspiredbythemusic



Series: For You [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:40:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26805997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inspiredbythemusic/pseuds/inspiredbythemusic
Summary: Category: Collection of DrabblesSummary: Lei was originally intended to debut with NCT. Through these short fics, explore the stories that could have been had Lei not debuted as a solo artist.
Series: For You [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954966
Kudos: 1





	For You: Could've Been

On the eve of our graduation from NCT Dream, Mark and I stood together on the hotel balcony beneath a pitch-black night sky. There was no moon find and admire. There were no stars to count. There were no words to exchange.

Were it not for the pale streetlights below illuminating his frowning face and his faint gasping breaths in the silence, I might not have realized that he was crying. Mark Lee, who I admired most for his optimism and smile, was crying.

My mind had been too flooded with thoughts about the impending goodbye to daydream about tomorrow’s showcase. I had been too heavy to laugh well into the night and early morning with Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Chenle, and Jisung. Mark, as the only person in the world who would ever share the pain of outgrowing Dream, was the only appropriate company for the night.

I hadn’t expected him to be the first to cry, though. I don’t think I expected him to cry at all. He never cried before. Maybe I didn’t know he could cry.

Had I predicted his outburst of emotion, I might have avoided him. I might have locked myself in my room to cry alone like the millions of nights before I moved into the NCT dorm. And then— then I never would have had the faintest inkling of what I missed while running to cower in the dark. Then, I never would have known the depth of my love for one of my dearest friends. How tragic would that have been?

Mark’s tears. They gripped me. They drew me out of my passive nature. They made me into the kind of person I always wanted to be: a person of action.

All my life, I chased balance. Never. Never had I cried with anybody before that night. Never had I been the first to reach out for somebody (except Mom, I guess, when I was a child, before I learned to be afraid). But I reached out for Mark. I looped my arms around his shoulders, and he gently wrapped his around my waist, and for the first time— for the first time, I wasn’t afraid of who might see.

What’s crazy is: neither of us crumbled. Neither of us broke, jabbing the other with our shards. Neither of us bled, staining the other crimson. We didn’t melt or blend together. We didn’t float up into the invisible stars together or drown each other in sorrow.

What’s crazy is: standing so near to Mark returned the air to my lungs, calmed my forever-racing heartbeat, untangled the knots in my stomach. All I can say is that there was comfort in knowing that we had always walked on the same path side-by-side. We had always willed the best for each other. We were bonded by a shared past, a mutual mourning of what we were leaving behind, and the same fear of the unknown future.

Never. I never would have imagined that crying with anybody would make me feel strong, shrouded in warmth, and not at all cold and vulnerable and exposed like recurring nightmares led me to believe. Crying with Mark was all I could do. And I think crying with me was all he could do too.

“We knew it wouldn’t last forever,” Mark sobbed into my neck, “so why am I so sad that we grew up?”

Never. Never had I responded to a question so quickly. “Nobody is ever really ready for the sun to set. Or at least I think I read that in a book once.” I patted the back of his plush hoodie.

Because I never believed in telling somebody when to stop crying, because I believed that sometimes crying is the only form of self-expression when words fail, I resolved to wait with Mark on the balcony until our words regained their power. That was the only right thing to do.

I told him what I always wanted to hear, what I had only heard in dreams that were cruel enough to hide the speaker’s face: “It’s okay to feel sad. It’s right to feel sad. We’re allowed to feel sad.”

Suddenly, Mark’s grip around my waist tightened, but not enough to steal the breath he had returned to me. He let out this terrible wail that would have woken everybody in the hotel if it hadn’t been muffled by my skin.

Maybe he never heard those words before— not even in a dream. Maybe he didn’t know that they were true. Maybe he didn’t know that even if he had to hide his fears from the rest of the world, he could bare them to me. Maybe he didn’t know that I would always meet him with understanding. Maybe he didn’t know that I am the kind of person who finds her reflection in every moment of vulnerability.

Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe I had to tell him.

“I love who I am to the Dreamies,” he confessed through sobs. “I love getting to be the person they look to for encouragement. I love getting to be the person they lean on for advice. I love— I love being called ‘Hyung,’ and I think— I think maybe nobody will ever call me that again. I think maybe I won’t get to be the person I was— the person I am right now— after that concert tomorrow.”

My tears burned all the way down my cheeks. I wiped them away with my sleeve so they wouldn’t burn him. “Mark, I can’t speak for the other members, but I know who you are. I know who you have always been to me.”

All at once, I blurted the words I once swore I would never tell him for fear of misunderstanding. In that moment, I realized that the greatest misunderstanding wouldn’t be for Mark to believe I was in love with him; it would be for Mark to never know that I loved him in the truest sense of the word. The eternal, unwavering, forever sense.

“You remind me that there are good people in our world. You— you are the kind of person I wish I could be. Passionate, optimistic, strong enough to smile through every challenge. You have always been that way, long before you debuted with Dream. You will always be that way, long after you graduate from Dream.”

Mark loosened our embrace, holding me with only one hand to wipe at his eyes with the other. “You—” he smiled— “that’s what you think of me?”

“That’s what I have always thought of you." 

More than anything, I wanted to reach out and wipe his tears, but I didn’t want to stand too close to him anymore. The moment had passed, and it was best to let it go. Don’t cling to what is not yours. "That’s what I will always think of you.”

Sometimes, I could still see the hearts in Mark’s eyes. Sometimes, most of the time, all the time, I wished they would fill mine too. Nobody— there is nobody on this planet who makes me feel stronger than Mark Lee does. There is nobody on this planet who is more deserving of love, pure love, unashamed and unafraid love. The love I could never give anybody.

I never doubted that he would find somebody who loved him the way he deserved. I just always knew that I would never be his somebody. Even if we should live a million lifetimes, and our paths cross each time (and I hope that they do), I will never be Mark’s somebody.

And I think— I know— that breaks my heart.


End file.
